


Shiner

by BeneaththeHalo



Series: Merthur Party [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur tending to Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlin gets hurt, Merthur Party, Merthur Party 2013, Team Orange, insult wars, some definite pre-slash in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeneaththeHalo/pseuds/BeneaththeHalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't the the first time Merlin had been injured while seemingly doing nothing on the battle field. It wouldn't be the last. And the great prat, Arthur Pendragon, wasn't going to let him forget it.<br/>My Submission for Merthur Party Prompt 2- the Prat and the Idiot. Go Team Orange!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiner

It wasn't the first time Merlin had saved Arthur's life without the prince knowing. Hell, he'd secretly saved Arthur's life so many times he'd lost count. It also wasn't the first time that, because Merlin had been distracted by Arthur's safety, he'd completely forgotten about his own. A bandit had advanced on him and clocked him over the head before he could do anything. Luckily Arthur had noticed, and had rushed over and taken the bandit down before he could finish Merlin off. Unluckily, though, it meant the prince thought that Merlin had done absolutely nothing in battle again.

"You are such an idiot, Merlin," said Arthur, sighing as he helped him to his feet. "Such a lazy idiot. You could at least _try_ helping me fight the bandits."

"I did," Merlin protested, dusting himself off.

"The guy who tripped over his own feet doesn't count," said Arthur.

"Yes he does," Merlin muttered. He knew the bandit hadn't tripped over his own feet- in fact, he'd tripped over Merlin's magic. But Arthur didn't know that, and Merlin wasn't going to tell him any time soon. As usual, he'd just have to take all the insults Arthur threw at him. “I do a lot more work than you seem to think. You’re just too much of a prat to realise it.”

“I’m the Crown Prince, _Mer_ lin. You can’t address me like that,” said Arthur. They both knew that was technically the rule, but they didn’t care. The insults and teasing that passed between them was almost therapeutic. It was a way for them to forget their responsibilities for a while; for Arthur to forget he was the heir to the throne of Camelot, and for Merlin to forget that he was (secretly) the most powerful sorcerer ever live and that he was destined to help unite the lands of Albion. Of course, they never traded any insults in front of anyone of importance or standing, and _definitely_ never in front of Uther. He’d have Merlin thrown in the stocks, or worse.

“I’ll address you however you want, _my lord_ ,” said Merlin, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. It was a challenge, one he was certain Arthur would take up.

And Merlin wasn’t wrong. The two of them were completely alone, having been out doing some scouting mission or something (Merlin had zoned out while Arthur had told him the exact details) when the group of bandits had attacked. Revelling in the freedom Arthur advanced, until his face was inches from Merlin’s. “Oh yeah, _Mer_ lin? Well, I have you know that-“ and then Arthur stopped, staring at Merlin with wide eyes.

“What?” said Merlin, but Arthur still said nothing, continuing to stare. “Arthur, what is it?”

“Your face…” said Arthur, half reaching out with one hand. “Do you realise you have a massive bruise over your eye.”

Merlin reached up instinctually to check; sure enough, the skin around his eye was very tender, and he winced when he touched it. Well _damn_. “Ouch,” he whispered, then, louder, “It must’ve been when that bandit got me over the head. I have a massive headache, too.”

“You may have a concussion, too,” said Arthur, sounding almost worried about his manservant. “We should stay here for a bit, just in case.”

“But more bandits might come,” Merlin protested.

“ _Merlin_ ,” said Arthur warningly. Merlin stared at him, surprised. “We’re staying here. I don’t want you to fall off your horse or something and make things worse.”

Merlin sighed. “Fine,” he said, marching petulantly over to a nearby log and sitting down, crossing his arms and staring at Arthur.

“Don’t be such a _child_ , Merlin,” said Arthur, going around to each bandit and taking their weapon to dispose of. “Besides, if you _do_ have a concussion and you get worse on the way back to Camelot, I don’t want Gaius yelling at me. Have you _seen_ him when he’s mad? He’s _terrifying_.”

“I have been on the receiving end of his yelling before, yes,” said Merlin, one hand rising to his head after a particularly painful throb. “Mostly when I can’t stop you from doing something stupid.”

“Hey!” Arthur cried, whipping around to face Merlin. “When do I _ever_ do anything stupid?”

“Only all the time,” Merlin retorted. “It’s any wonder you haven’t gotten the both of us killed yet.”

“ _I_ haven’t gotten the both of us killed?” Arthur repeated, incredulous. “ _Me_? Merlin, you _do_ realise I am the best knight in the kingdom, don’t you? Whereas you struggle to even _hold_ a sword the right way!”

“I’ve learnt _plenty_ about sword fighting from watching and serving you, Arthur,” Merlin pointed out. “I get along just fine. I still maintain that you wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

Arthur scoffed at that. Considering he didn’t know about Merlin’s magic, and the numerous times Merlin had used it to save his life, the servant was useless in battle as far as Arthur was concerned. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you," he said. "I survived plenty well before you come along."

"I saved your life the day we met," Merlin reminded him. "I'm pretty sure you never thanked me for that, either."

"I don't have to thank you, _Mer_ lin," said Arthur. "And besides, since I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, you should be honoure that you saved my life. Not many people get that opportunity."

"I should be honoured that _I_ saved _you_?" Merlin repeated. "I guess you really are as big of a prat as I thought you were." Merlin grinned at Arthur but then winced, clapping a hand over one eye. "Ouch. Why does my eye hurt so much?"

"Maybe because you have a great big bruised covering it?" said Arthur. "Seriously, Merlin, you have a black eye. And a pretty nasty one, too."

"Really? Well, crap. Gaius is going to kill me."

"Forget about Gaius, Merlin. We've got to do something about that eye, so it doesn't get any worse. Come here." And before Merlin could stop him Arthur reached out, tenderly touching Merlin's bruise with the fingers on one hand. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

"Yes," said Merlin through clenched teeth. "Do you have to _touch_ it, Arthur?"

"I have to see how bad it is," said Arthur. "And this one is a shocker."

"I think he got me with the hilt of his sword," said Merlin.

"Yep, that'll do it." Arthur reached into the bag of supplies they'd brought with them, pulling out a salve that Merlin vaguely recognised as one that Gaius had prepared. "This works wonders for soothing bruises. As the first knight of Camelot, that's one thing I've had a lot of." Before dipping his fingers into the salve, Arthur couldn't help but grin at Merlin, with that grin he had whenever Merlin had done something stupid that he found highly amusing. "I wish there was some way for me to record the way you look right now, because you look absolutely ridiculous."

"I'm glad my pain is so amusing to you," said Merlin shortly.

“It’s not your pain that’s amusing to me, Merlin,” said Arthur, his expression and tone suddenly sober. Arthur hoped that Merlin could hear the underlying meaning in what Arthur had said; _your pain is never amusing to me, and it never will be_. “It’s the way you look right now. And besides, if your pain really _was_ amusing to me, would I be doing this?” he asked, waving the bottle in Merlin’s face.

“I guess not,” Merlin agreed.

“But since a prince _really_ shouldn’t be applying salves to his manservants bruised face, I’m sure you’ll understand if I make fun of you the entire time,” Arthur added.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, given how much of a prat you are,” Merlin retorted.

“Do you _want_ me to apply this to your bruise or not?” said Arthur.

“Oh, you love it,” said Merlin with a smirk. Arthur didn’t answer; he couldn’t. What was he supposed to say, yes I do love it when we trade insults like this? He was the prince, for crying out loud! He was supposed to throw anyone in the stocks who dared treat him this way.

But then again, Merlin wasn’t just anyone. Which was exactly why Arthur dipped his fingers into the salve and, with gentle fingers, began applying it to Merlin’s bruise. The injured man closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of contentment as the cool liquid hit his skin. “You really are an idiot, Merlin,” said Arthur conversationally as his fingers danced over Merlin’s skin. “What on earth were you doing that a bandit was able to _hit you over_ _the head_ without you noticing?”

“I was, well… I was watching you,” Merlin admitted meekly. “Making sure you were all right. What is my life worth compared to Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon? Even if you are an arrogant, supercilious dollop-head.”

“I’m still nearly certain that ‘dollop-head’ isn’t a word,” said Arthur. “And you don’t have to protect me, Merlin. Look after yourself, for once in your life. It’s clear you haven’t been doing that up until now.”

_Oh, I do have to protect you, Arthur Pendragon,_ Merlin thought to himself. _It is my destiny, after all_. Arthur didn’t know about all that destiny stuff, however, and Merlin wasn’t about to tell him that any time soon. He would one day, perhaps, but not yet. Instead he said, “I do so look after myself. I’m not dead yet, am I?” His eyes still closed, Merlin could not see Arthur, but he felt the man’s fingers freeze on his skin.

“No,” said Arthur, his voice strangely strained. “No, you’re not.”

Merlin wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Arthur had finally finished his ministrations. “There. That should be good enough. Although you still look like an absolute fool, Merlin. And I’m making sure _everyone_ sees you when we get back. Especially Guinevere and Morgana.”

Merlin slowly opened his eyes; sure enough, the action hurt significantly less than it had before. He reached up and touched the bruised area, and found that that hurt a lot less. “Wow. Thanks,” he said, not really sure what else to say. “And I’m most definitely hiding from them until the bruise fades. But it’s nice to know you care, Arthur. Seriously, it’s a shame most other people don’t get to see this side of you. I’m sure they’d like it. You really should be this kind and gentle more often.”

“Merlin?” said Arthur. “Shut. Up.”

And Merlin did.


End file.
